


Why Hunter's Should Never Capture Derek Hale

by sureiminsane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Stiles, Happens around 2020, Implied Torture, M/M, Older Characters, captured Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sureiminsane/pseuds/sureiminsane
Summary: Living among the werewolves and monsters in a place which attracts them like a magnet and with Stiles' luck could end up two ways- being dead or being worse than all the monsters he'd met.Eight years later Stiles is still alive which means that everyone and everything around should be fearing him.Also, Derek was taken. Again.





	

Derek Hale hissed when the electrical pulse ran trough his body again. He looked up at his captors, growling trough his teeth. It wasn't as threatening as he wanted it to, but he couldn't do much more with the building basically made of mountain ash.  
"Interesting." The hunter looked at him, smiling. "Aren't you a brave beast, boy? Not scared?"  
"My pack is coming for me." Derek breathed out, trying to wrangle out of the restrains.  
"Aaah, your pack." The hunter chuckled. "You mean that group of misfits who you play family with? Really?"  
"I heard their Alpha is barely out of high school." Another hunter came in. "They're basically a bunch of kids, especially that if they even somehow break the line we made outside they won't be even able to change. Even that little fox of yours."  
Derek heard snickers from the other room and fought the restrains again.  
"Oh, there is a Banshee among them, tough."  
"What do we do?" One of hunters mocked. "They've got a Banshee." He grinned. "Oh, wait. I know. We'll ward the area against Banshees."  
"So, who is gonna save you?" The huntress smiled widely, sending Derek a mockery kiss. "A bunch of kids? I'm so scared." She teased.  
Suddenly the light started to flicker and the radio in the other room cackled with static. Huntress's phone started ringing. She watched the number with suspicion and gestured everyone to come. Four hunters gathered around her, while three other were keeping watch. She picked up and put it on speaker. The lights went out completely, leaving the people in darkness. The backup generator buzzed to life, keeping the prisoner electrified.  
"Hello, hunters." Derek smiled, recognising the voice. "Sorry to break it to you, but you've got something that doesn't belong to you. Let him go."  
"Or what?" The huntress snickered. "We're in a werewolf proof base. You can do jackass, boy, even if you're the Alpha."  
"I asked kindly. Now I'm gonna be a little more persuasive. If you don't let him go I'm going to break into that 'base' of yours and turn it upside down, stone by stone until I find him, and when I do, I'll rip your throats out with my teeth. And this is gonna hurt as a bitch because I'm not even a werewolf."  
The phone call ended abruptly leaving everyone to dead silence. Derek started to laugh.  
"Who was that?!" The Huntress demanded. She was scared. Freaked out, even. Someone called her personal number and threatened them all. And now the werewolf they captured was laughing like crazy. The one they couldn't break. The one that haven't even once broken the cold indifference.  
"Who's that?!" Huntress shouted, hitting Derek "Who's coming?!"  
"My boyfriend." Derek grinned. "And he sounds pissed."  
The huntress fished out a walkie-talkie and called over to the people outside.  
"Adam, Malcolm, Damien?" She asked. The only answer was static. "Guys, say something!"  
"That's very unprofessional." Derek smirked and earned another punch in the face for it. Totally worth it.  
A voice came from the device. A very familiar voice.  
"I don't think they're in chit-chaty mood right now."  
"What did you do to them?" The huntress barked out.  
"I haven't killed them, if that's what you're asking." The voice from the other end of the line said. "I also haven't cut out their tongues and feed them to the wolves…yet. Are you ready to let Derek go?"  
"No." She growled. "But we can make an exchange. We want the Alpha."  
"Oh." The man on the other end mimicked surprise. "Sure. Scott…?" He kept quiet for a second. "No, I don't think he's feeling up for it. Oh, and one more think before I go."  
Everyone stared at the device, waiting for the man to speak.  
"Do you think it's wise to let me talk?"  
The question didn't came out of the device. It came from behind the huntress's back.  
The five hunters panicked, digging out knives and guns, flashlights locking on a man that looked like he came out of hell.  
His jacket was black and leather, he couldn't be more than twenty-few and in the dim light his spiky hair seemed dark brown. His otherwise pretty face wore marks of a werewolf attack - five vertical cuts from five claws, starting from the nose and under left eye, trough the cheek to left ear.  
But it were his eyes that were worse, as he was looking at the paralysed people, they seemed to be darker than black without a speck of mercy.  
The huntress was the first to pull the trigger, to reveal her bullets has miraculously disappeared. The man grinned.  
She tried to reach for the blade, but he was faster, kicking her from a spin so hard she fell backwards at another hunter. Two men on the sides attacked at the same time with knives, while the third one had a hard time realising all their ammunition was gone.  
The man with the scar blocked both hunter's knives with two daggers which came from nowhere. He pushed them back while kicking the third one on the face. He felt man's nose cracking under his heavy military shoe. He ducked another knife attack and dodged a few slashes then he took a step back and with a calculated and perfected for years movement of his wrist he send both daggers flying right into his attackers' foreheads and knocking them out with handles.  
He turned around to look at Derek.  
"Eight!" He smiled sheepishly. "That's my record, honey."  
"Stiles!" Derek hissed urgently, but Stiles just took a step back, crushing huntress' hand under his heel. She was trying to reach the knife lying on the floor, now holding her hand close, whining over the mess left of her bones.  
"Don't worry, I've got it covered." He grinned. "Now let's get you out of here." He watched Derek for a moment. "Tough the sight is magnificent. Maybe we should get something like this for our bedroom?"  
"Stiles, if you buy a pair of shackles I will cuff you myself to the ceiling and leave you hanging there to die."  
"You know your threads stopped being scary a few years ago?" Stiles asked, turning off the generator. "Now, they're kinda… hot."  
"You'd like to see me hanging you up the ceiling?" Derek asked, breaking the restrains, now that electricity didn't reduce his strength.  
"I'd like to see you try." Stiles murmured, coming closer to the werewolf and putting his hands on Derek's bare chest. "How is it that it's always you that end up in shackles in some sort of rundown lair?"  
"Maybe that's 'cause I'm irresistible." Derek whispered, taking Stiles' head in his hands. He traced the scar, like every time they were close. To remember he did it to Stiles. And to remember that now Stiles is far from defenceless. "Everyone just wants me for themselves."  
"True." Stiles grinned. "Unfortunately I'm not sharing."  
Their kiss was harsh, needy, like they haven't seen each other for five years not five days. Five eternities. Derek slipped his tongue into Stiles mouth, tasting him, breathing in his scent, licking and biting, just not enough to draw blood.  
Suddenly he froze, catching a knife that flew from darkness. It was another hunter, one that came back from a patrol.  
Before the man was able to draw another weapon, Stiles shot a teaser he hid in his jacket pocket and the last hunter fell to the floor.  
"Nine." He said proudly. "I think that gives me more points."  
"I don't think so." Derek argued. "If I didn't catch the knife you would be dead. You can get eight and a half."  
"Eight and three fourth?" Stiles tried to bargain. "You can count up for that shooter that month I headbutted."  
"Yeah, and you put yourself to hospital because he had a metal plate in his forehead."  
They were arguing fondly all the way home. The hunters got a clear message. You are not allowed to touch this pack. They knew more hunters were going to come and more people could get hurt.  
But the pack had an advantage.  
They had Stiles.  
And Stiles had Derek


End file.
